Calescence
by Greywolf Lupous
Summary: In a lifetime filled with adrenaline and action, it was still odd how these quiet moments could take Theron so off guard.


**Title:** Calescence  
 **Pairing:** Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight  
 **Genre:** Just pure concentrated fluff  
 **Synopsis:** In a lifetime filled with adrenaline and action, it was still odd how these quiet moments could take Theron so off guard.  
 **Word Count:** ~1,500

* * *

He woke with a start, eyes flying open and immediately cataloguing his darkened surroundings. The rough stone carved walls mixed with steel supports let Theron know he was on Odessen, but the wide open room was larger than his quarters. The quiet breathing of someone next to him in bed brought recognition to his sleep-addled brain, but didn't explain what had roused him. As an adult, he'd always been a light sleeper. He had a vague memory of Nagani Zho commenting that waking the dead was easier than rousing a twelve-year-old, but that had been a lifetime ago, and it was hard to tell what was real memory at this point or just nostalgic wistfulness.

Theron tried not to make a habit of falling asleep in the quarters of the Alliance's commander, no matter how late the night, partially in an effort to keep scuttlebutt to the minimum. The other part of him was still trying to navigate the landmine that was an actual committed relationship. He'd never made much of a habit of sleeping over with his previous romantic entanglements, as the looming specter of attachment seemed to grow larger the longer he tarried. In this case though, that particular ship had sailed the stars long ago. Still, old habits die hard.

He continued to glance around the room, trying to figure what had pulled him awake. The slight chill in the room and his internal chronometer let him know that it was still in the early, pre-dawn hours. He traced the shadow-drenched shapes, eyes already adjusted to the darkness. Everything was still in its place from where they had left it last night. A pile of data pads lay on the table, his jacket carefully draped across the back of one of the chairs. The rest of his clothes were likely scattered somewhere on the floor, because it made the Jedi slumbering next to him scrunch her eyebrows up at him in consternation when she tripped over his boots in the morning. That was always good for a laugh (which in turn usually earned him a smack to the chest).

Just as he was about to get up and check the room more thoroughly, the figure to his side made a soft noise of discomfort, and the covers shifted across his chest as they were pulled away. His spike of adrenaline began to fade as sheepishness washed over him. He looked over to his bedmate, hoping that she was still asleep so he didn't have to come up with an excuse for his heightened sense of paranoia.

She was curled in on herself in a compact little ball, coverlet clutched in her hand as she absently tried to pull it tighter around her. The cold recirculated air moved across his now exposed chest, just as her shoulders quaked ever-so-slightly with a shiver. Theron lost a little more coverlet as she tried to curl in a little more in an effort to conserve warmth.

He probably should have just taken the rest of the covers on his half of the bed and tossed it over to her and slipped out of the room to finish sleeping in his own bed, but that would have required him to rummage in the darkness to find his clothes. From the disgruntled noises she was making, it was clear she was still asleep, even if she wasn't exactly comfortable. If he started tripping around in the dark he'd definitely wake her up.

He closed his eyes, trying to will himself back into a light slumber. It was far too early to get up yet, and he'd already pulled several late nights trying to sort through all of their data on the first Star Fortress they were planning on storming. If they were going to pull it off, he needed to have his wits about him to properly slice into the system. The scouting mission had already taken off several years of his life when he'd briefly lost contact with the woman slumbering fitfully next to him.

She let out another disgruntled mutter and the sheets and covers slipped away further now leaving his left side completely exposed to the chilly room. His eyes snapped back open, staring at the ceiling blankly. It was _not_ that cold.

The little moan of protest next to him begged to differ, and the mattress dipped and shifted as the tiny blanket-cocooned Jedi tossed about briefly. He carefully shoved himself up into a sitting position, watching as she finally stilled, spine arched in what would surely be a painful position come a few hours. He pressed his lips together, debating the merits of waking her. He'd nearly gotten a black eye the time he'd tried to rouse her during a nightmare. That had earned several profuse apologies and her shooting him guilty hang dog looks throughout the day. He really didn't want a repeat of that, although it seemed like the discomfort tonight seemed to be more in relation to the ambient temperature than monsters chasing her through her sleep.

Theron could get someone to come check the thermostat, but that would definitely chase sleep away for them both for the remainder of the morning. If he needed sleep to be sharp for his part in the raid on the Star Fortress, she needed even more since the stubborn woman was insisting on leading the return mission. Aside from all of that, he really didn't feel like finding his pants right now. He was pretty sure he'd tossed them somewhere in the general vicinity of the bed. Maybe.

There might have been an extra blanket draped over on the couch, but he'd have to navigate through the room in the dark. Likely he'd trip on his shirt, which was probably somewhere near the stairs. He hadn't thrown it there intentionally, but the thought of her cheeks flushing red at him in repressed annoyance after slipping on it did bring a smile to his face. It probably said more about his quality as relationship material, but it was hard to care. It was _funny_ watching that perfect Jedi composure slip.

Another shiver racked her body, and he couldn't completely suppress a sigh. Neither of them were going to get any quality sleep at this rate. Theron wasn't sure why if she was so cold she hadn't drifted to the natural heat source lying next to her. Then again, she didn't always seem the most comfortable initiating physical contact, something he hadn't quite puzzled out but tried his best to respect. Even when they were being intimate he had to take the lead for the most part, as if she wasn't sure what kind of touch was appropriate. He didn't know if it was due to a lifetime of Jedi teachings on detachment or just something all of her own.

He carefully lowered himself back onto his pillow, intent to do his best to ignore it when she let out a soft whimper of discontent, brow furrowing. His will to just let it be crumbled and he gingerly adjusted his pillow, laying back down a little closer to the center of the bed. Very carefully he laid an arm across her shoulder, but he wasn't the only one who was a light sleeper. Her eyes fluttered open, glancing about wildly as she repeated his earlier actions of trying to reorient herself.

"It's okay, it's just me," he said softly.

Almost immediately the deep frown eased and he felt the tension drain out of her shoulders. She blinked at him sleepily, and he suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

She mumbled something incoherent, but it sounded vaguely like it may have meant to be a question.

"You just seemed a little cold."

She seemed to notice the giant mass of blankets that she'd unconsciously gathered around her, and even though it was dark he could have sworn he saw her cheeks flush. He was successful at the smothering the chuckle that almost summoned, and instead slipped his other arm under her head. It took a moment for her to process his intention, but then she eased out of the tight ball she'd contorted into and disentanged from the wadded coverlet. Just as he was readjusting the blankets, she pressed back into him, her body molding against his almost perfectly. He felt the ghost of a smile twitch against his arm as she made herself comfortable. Before he could move or shift any, he felt her grab his other arm and hugged it to her chest effectively trapping him to the spot.

Theron did his best to adjust his position to something comfortable, even as her breathing started to slow as she slipped back into slumber. The arm she was laying on would likely be numb come dawn, but it was a fair trade off. The soft sigh she let out as she snuggled into his chest was definitely on the contented side, and a light feeling of warmth uncoiled in his gut. In a lifetime filled with adrenaline and action, it was still odd how these quiet moments could take him so off guard. All thoughts of the upcoming missions and other duties slipped away as he felt each deep breath press against him. It wasn't long before his breathing had naturally began to match her cadence, and he drifted back to sleep as well.


End file.
